


Three times Obi-wan Kenobi didn't kiss you and one time he did

by Emeraldgrcves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, You/Obi-wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldgrcves/pseuds/Emeraldgrcves
Summary: "He watches you as you walk beside him, so close that sometimes your hands brush past each other. He thinks you might be beautiful."Obi-wan Kenobi is seventeen when he realises that he loves you.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 165





	Three times Obi-wan Kenobi didn't kiss you and one time he did

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfiction of any kind, so what better fandom to start with than Star Wars?  
> Poor Obi-wan deserves so much better than what he got, so let's give him someone to love who loves him back...AKA, you.  
> Enjoy!

You hummed to yourself, the tune echoing around the empty hallway along with the taps of your footsteps.

He watches you as you walk beside him, so close that sometimes your hands brush past each other. He thinks you might be beautiful.

"What song is that?" Asks seventeen year old Obi-wan with a small smile, "I don't think I know it."

"No, you don't." you reply with a cheeky grin as you nudge his shoulder, "Because I made it up."

The contact almost takes his breath away. You are his best friend, his closest confidante besides his master Qui-gon.

"Ah, so a budding musician and a Padawan? Will your saber play a jingle when you activate it?" he quips, eyebrow raised in menacing as you exclaim.

"Hah! Obi, you think you're so funny."

"Well that's because I am."

"Shall you slay your enemies with your terrible comedic skills?" you retort, although your tone contains no real malice. You're still smiling, as always. "Oh Stars! My wound is too great!" you cry, throwing your hands over your heart, "Your jest was so terrible that I think I might die!"

He frowns but can't help how his lips quirk at your melodrama.  
With a loud gasp you begin to choke and you stop walking. He does too, watching bemused as you cough and splutter before sinking to the ground.

"Bleh-!" you cry before sticking out your tongue as you lie on the marble floor, 'dead'. You crack open an eye to make sure he is watching you.

"You are very lucky that this hallway is empty." Obi says, "The Masters might just kick you out of the Order if they witnessed that terrible performance."

"You criticise as if you can do any better." you snap, propping yourself up on your elbows. The early morning light shines in through the high up windows and basks you in a golden glow. He thinks you might be _very_ beautiful.

"I think I am a very good actor, mind you. You always think that I laugh genuinely at your jokes."

Your foot collides with his ankle and he winces, "See! You couldn't even act out not being in pain!"

"That's because I _was_ actually in pain!" he replies, leaning over to rub his injury, "You're quite aggressive and I'm not sure I wish to be associated with you."

You scoff and smirk and his heart skips a beat as you hold out your hand, "Help me up, Kenobi."

He grasps your hand in his. The skin is soft and he would very much like to hold it forever, to raise it to his lips and kiss your knuckles like the knights in the stories that he reads. He would very much like to lift you from the floor and kiss your lips, your perfect lips on your perfect face. As you look up at him he decides that you _are_ beautiful.

But Obi-wan Kenobi is a good actor. He said so himself.  
Instead, he drops your hand.

"Oh goodness!" he gasps and takes a step backwards.

"What?" you ask. When he doesn't reply you probe again, watching as he stumbles around, " _What_ , Obi?"

"I've completely forgotten!" he exclaims, flailing his arms about, eyes screwed shut.

"Forgotten _what_?" you ask, sitting up fully now, mildly concerned.

He tilts his head to the ceiling and raises his hand to shield his eyes as if he was looking very hard for something.

"What did you forget?" you echo from the floor.

"That I'm blind and I can't see where you are." Obi replies, quite seriously, "So I cannot help you up." and with that he starts marching off, stiff as a solider, "Oh how terrible it is to be blind." he laments.

"Obi-wan!" you shout through your laughter, "That's not funny!"  
He hears you pick yourself up off the ground and hurry towards him. He quickens his march.

"People are _actually_ blind, Obi-wan!"

"People like me!"

"No! You're discrediting their very tough existence." you reply and he contains laughter as you come up behind him.

"Oh dear," he murmurs, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"What? _Oh dear,_ it seems I am deaf too."

You give him a shove and he stumbles.

"Oh how terrible it is to be blind and deaf!" he cries again, "Although it does mean that I can live a peaceful existence, not having to look at or hear you."

You cackle and slap him on the back of the head.

"Don't do that." he frowns, reaching up to smack you back, "You're discrediting my very tough existence."

"Oh shut up."

-

He is numb and confused and grieving all at once when you find him in his room, shivering as though there is a blizzard only he can feel, aged twenty five.

"Obi-wan." you murmur through the darkness, sliding in through the door. You reach for the switch on the wall and you hear rustling and a sniff.

"Don't turn on the light." he snaps. He has never snapped at you before and meant it. He regrets it instantly, "Please." he adds, softer this time.

Wordlessly you move through the room towards him. If you hadn't alerted him to your presence, he would never have known you were there. You sit down gently and the dipping of the mattress beside him is comforting.

The moonlight from the windows show the hollows of his face and the tear tracks down his cheeks sparkle in the light. You feel your heart breaking.

You uncurl his fist that sits in his lap and bring his hand to your thigh where you place his palm facing upwards and slowly, with the tips of your fingers, smooth across the crescent marks left by his fingernails before you link your fingers with his.

  
"I'm unsure of what to say." you say, honestly, "I don't think I've ever been lost for words before. You might think it is a miracle."

He manages a small, brief chuckle. Your hand his warm in his, a soothing presence.

"Obi-wan, Qui-gon would be so incredibly proud of you. So incredibly proud that he got to call you his Padawan."

"I am so incredibly proud that I got to call him M-master." his voice wavers as the lump reforms in his throat and tears well in his eyes, "I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently. Your voice was so soft, it drifted like a gust of wind, barely audible and elusive. You raised your eyes to meet his. They were a soft, pale colour, almost gray under the moonlight.

"I have a Padawan now." he whispers, "And I'm so terrified that I will not be good enough. I'm not Qui-Gon, I could never give Anakin the training he needs-"

Your hands raise to cup his face and your thumbs brush away the new tears, "Ssh." you soothe and he feels as though you're staring into his soul and into the depths of his mind with your beautiful eyes. He hopes you cannot tell that he is _utterly_ and _completely_ in love with you.

"Obi-wan Kenobi." you say his name as if it is your own, so sure and proud, "You are the finest Jedi I have ever met in my entire life and you will be the finest Master there ever was." your thumbs are wet with his tears and you continue to run the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks to wipe them away, "That boy shall want for nothing. He will have a forever friend, an older brother, a kindred soul in you."

You're so close now that he can smell the sweet scent of honey and fresh fruits that always linger on your person. As you lean to press your forehead to his he resists the urge to capture your lips and kiss them raw. _Stars,_ how he wishes he could kiss you. But he is a Master Jedi now and his heart breaks because he knows now he never will.

"If Anakin turns out to be half the Jedi you are," you whisper, your breath hot against his lips, "He will be absolutely incredible."

  
Something like a sob escapes him, thin and heartbroken. He doesn't know if he is crying for Qui-Gon or himself.

In an instant you have him in a hug, arms as tight around him as you can possibly manage. Obi-wan tucks his head into the crook of your neck, practically collapsing on top of you until you aren’t sure where he stops and you start.

He says your name over and over and over again in his mind, a hymn only he can hear.

-

"Obi-wan!"

He turns at the sound of your voice and Anakin stops mid sentence.

"There you are!" Obi-wan exclaims, meeting you halfway and grasping your forearm, "Thank the stars that you're alright."

"I was about to say the same to you, Master Kenobi." you reply with a grin and you push past him to his Padawan. "Oh _Anakin_."

He watches as you chastise the young man who is now without an arm. He can't help but feel guilty about what transpired, how he let Anakin get in harms way, but he know that there is nothing to be done now.

Tuning back into your conversation, he hears your suggestion.

"You should get one of those robotic arms." you say, holding your hand up to shield your mouth as if Obi-wan won't be able to hear what you're saying, "So you can throw it at your old geezer of a Master if he annoys you."

Anakin laughs and Obi-wan sighs, "Don't be giving him any ideas, you." he warns, "He causes enough trouble as it is."

"This wasn't my fault at all!" Anakin exclaims, moving closer to you as if he were a child again, "Master L/N, tell him!"

"Now now, Obi-wan." you say teasingly, taking the boy's side as you had done for years, "Your dear Padawan has never caused an ounce of trouble in his life."

"I would very much agree." Said Padawan adds.

"Damn you two." Obi-wan groans, running his hand down his face, "Causing me nothing but grief."

Anakin and yourself share a small laugh before he pats you on the back,  
"It's good to see you safe, Master L/N." he says sincerely, although you can see the playfulness hiding behind his eyes, "Goodness only knows what my dear Master would do if you weren't."

"Lead a very boring life, I suppose." you reply with a grin.

Anakin smiles, "I'll see you later, Master." directed at Kenobi, before making his way off down the hallway to where, neither of you quite know.

It is only when his Padawan dissappears around the corner that Obi-wan moves closer to you.

"Are you positive that you are unharmed?" He asks, very visably giving you a once over, "I didn't see you on Geonosis."

"How did you miss me?" you ask, "I saw you. Although, you were quite.. _tied up_. Don't you recall?"

"Please don't."

"I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Kenobi."

He grimaces, "It was so embarrassing."

You clap your hand on his back, a friendly gesture but he doesn't fail to notice how it lingers long than necessary. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind and reigns himself in.

"Don't worry about it, Obi. You're safe and that's the main thing. I quite like your hair like this, though. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No."

"Well I do. I've got to start saying these things now, since it seems you getting yourself into near death situations is going to be a regular thing." you grin and on your tiptoes you ruffle his hair as if he were a child. He looks away to hide the redness of his cheeks," Stars forbid you die without knowing that your hair looks good. " you add.

The hall is empty and his heart soars as he looks back to find you staring into his eyes, once again into the depths of his soul. How can you not see that he is madly in love with you?

"I'm so glad you're okay. I can't say that enough." you murmur, taking his hand and giving it a soft squeeze.

He catches himself as his hand cradles your cheek. It is only when you lean into his touch that he realises what he is doing. Oh stars he wants to kiss you. For eighteen years he has wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to grasp your waist so softly and pull you into him and _kiss you_. Age hadn't touched you, you still are as beautiful as the day he met you, if anything you were even more beautiful now. He'd always thought it a childish crush. But he was not a child anymore, far from it.

Thirty five years old and his heart still aches. You hold it in your palm and you don't even know, your warmth the only thing keeping it beating a steady drum.

His hand falls from your cheek to your shoulder and he pats it, twice.

"Likewise, old friend." he says with a smile, still a great actor after all this time.

You smile back and for a moment he swears he sees a hint of melancholy or something in your eyes but another emotion chases it away too quickly and he can't read it.

"You should get some rest." you say finally, setting on a neutral emotion, laced with care, "You've got to be on top of your game now, _General_ _Kenobi_."

"I'm _always_ on top of my game." he replies smoothly as you begin to walk beside him. You are so close that your hand brushes against his and he is suddenly aware of the familiarity of this situation. He gives your shoulder a nudge and you nudge back.

"Go to your room, Obi." you say finally, reaching a split in the hallway, "Get some sleep." you turn to him and grab his arm and give him a small squeeze, "I'll be around later to check on you."

"I will," he says, "Thank you."

You leave him with one last smile and it lights up his whole life, the butterflies in his stomach flutter madly and his heart beats against his chest so violently as though it it trying to escape.

He almost reaches out and pulls you back, but instead he watches as you walk away.

-

"Thank you." he says to the Lars, although it is only a whisper before he turns and walks off towards the Tatooine horizon.

He does not look back. He does not want to look back and see Owen and Beru holding little Luke in the doorway of their house, because it should not be them. It should be Padmé and Anakin.

Only it isn't, and it never will be.

He can feel the ache in his chest, a gaping hole the loss of the Jedi, Padmé and Anakin left. Left by your disappearance. Left by the fact that now, he was alone.

A day during the third year of him living in the Junland Wastelands is when there comes a knock at his door. He freezes in place. Who would call to Ben the hermit?

His hand falls instinctively to his side to rest on his saber under his cloak as he steps towards the door. The knock comes again.

"Hello?" He calls out.

"Hello?"

He opens the door, slowly, blinking hard against the blaring Tatooine sun and slowly his eyes focus on the figure in front of him.

On _you_.

He can't even breathe as you lower the hood of your cloak. There is a small scar across your left cheekbone but you are still so beautiful and he decides you _have_ to be a product of dehydration or sunstroke or _something_ because you can absolutely _not_ be here, on his doorstep after all this time. He thought you were dead.

"Hello there, Obi." you greet with a small smile, "Or is it Ben the hermit?"

Your humor feels grossly out of place in your reunion but he cracks a small smile. You haven't changed.

"You should come in." he replies in a daze.

You step inside and he shuts the door. _Stars,_ he wants to kiss you. He's going to kiss you.

The minute the door is closed you swing your arms around him and _goodness_ it feels so nice to hold someone, to have someone who knows who Obi-wan Kenobi is.

"I thought you were dead." he murmurs, unmoving, "I thought for three years-how did you find me?"

You pull back and grab his face in your hands and you lean to press your forehead against his, the feeling so familiar.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you whisper, "But you're not exactly and easy man to find. I was so worried for you, Obi. I thought you were dead too and if search and searched and decided if I couldn't find you, then what was the point in my surviving?" he can hear the lump in your throat as your voice wavers, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there, for you, for Anakin, for Padmé." He can feel the tears from your eyes on his cheeks,"You must have been so lonely-" your voice breaks, "and I can't bear to think about it. I'm so sorry-"

Ever so gently, he presses his lips to yours- soft, tentative, and barely there. It’s a ' _shut up'_ , and a greeting and a question all at once. It’s not the grand romantic gestures he’s dreamed of late at night, wanting to sweep you off your feet in a shower of confidence away from the restrictions of the Jedi, or even really a conscious decision- it’s _instinct, want_ , and something like love.

His hands are shaking as he cups your face and pulls away. You blink at him, eyes wide.

"You never have to be sorry for anything ever again." he says and he kisses you again and again and again until you're out of breath. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead and your eyes and nose and knows now that you are actually here in front of him.

"I have waited a lifetime for you to do that." you murmur against his lips and he holds you close, hands on your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumbs.

"Twenty four years." he says "And I will kiss you every day for the rest of my life to make up for it. If you'll have me."

"Of course." you reply and place a small kiss to his lips, "I truly love you, Obi-wan and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I left you before Mustafar. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"No more sorrys." he whispers and pulls you closer to his chest, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." he affirms, hoping that you could feel his words on your skin so that you'd never forget.

He will never forget the horrors of war, but with you by his side perhaps the nightmares will stop and his heart might find peace.

Both of your hearts might find peace, together.


End file.
